


A Living Dead God

by Necroplantser



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms, World of Greyhawk
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Dialogue Heavy, Father-Son Relationship, Ficlet, Gen, making a magazine-letter ransom note out of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necroplantser/pseuds/Necroplantser
Summary: There's catching up. And then there iscatching up.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	A Living Dead God

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this a little proof-of-concept for a longer, multichapter, fanfiction I have on the backburner while I exhaust my ability to write explicit Kas/Vecna content. Being dramatically neutral evil and hellbent on planar domination cannot and will not stop one Serial Dad.

A being that had ascended past the need for any  _ true _ physical form had no need to worry about such concepts as being in two places at once. With fragments of consciousness, an eye so to speak, wherever he might need them - and the capacity for multitasking on an interplanar level, no less - Acererak had no real concerns about the Tomb of the Nine Gods.

Usually. On any given day, or what passed for days to a busy demilich. Now and then there would be a blip on his radar somewhere, something that required his immediate attention, more often than not dealt with before he was forced to directly intervene. That was perfectly fine by him. A wayward adventurer, a ragtag team of wannabe heroes, a problem to be fixed by those far lower on the ladder. 

From the sounds of it, this was different.

The most concerning part: the bits and pieces of friendly conversation. At the lowest level. By the Soulmonger. In  _ several _ voices that he recognized - in turn the wretched and reedy voices of each of the hag sisters who watched over his atropal, exchanging pleasantries with something hollow, higher-pitched for its masculine qualities. Acererak was certain he knew  _ that _ one. He was  _ not _ certain, however, that he wasn't being tricked somehow.

It wasn't any effort at all to materialize himself as an entity there, but the energy had changed drastically since the last time he'd visited in person. The power typically put off by the arcane machinery of the Soulmonger, and the atropal it fed, matched if not somewhat dominated by an overbearing presence. He amused himself briefly with the notion that the sheer necrotic might concentrated on this level of the Tomb alone could raise undead from the living directly.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Acererak didn't have to wait long until the sisters caught his eye and bowed their heads. Though substantially shorter than him the hooded man they had been socializing with turned his head with a light jingle of metal adornments, and for a moment the demilich was taken aback by the flickering orb of teal light before the hood dropped, and grinning back at his surprise was the dessicated, half-rotted face of Vecna.

"I take it not even those Dark Powers could hold you for long," Acererak said, shaking off the shock. "I have to admit, I did not expect to see you here, or… back,  _ ever." _

"And I expected to see you busy, but not quite  _ this _ busy!" Gesturing to the Soulmonger, Vecna clapped his right hand on Acererak's shoulder and chuckled. "I'll have to make a note to keep better tabs on you. Is that what I think it is?" His gaze drifted back to the machine.

"The atropal? Yes, it is." A smile curled at the edges of his mouth at the secondhand pride in the way Vecna gripped his shoulder. "At first it was just something I picked up on the negative energy plane, but… lately, it's become a sort of pet project."

"A  _ pet project?"  _ Vecna nodded back to the hags as they took their leave. 

"Indeed." The two stepped over to the platform surrounding the Soulmonger and the nightmarish infant titan. "Incredible, isn't it? The machine harvests souls from the living and the resurrected, which sustains the atropal, and eventually will… well."

_ "Well?  _ It gets better from there, does it?"

"My end goal with the Soulmonger is to fuel its ascension into a god on this plane."

Vecna leaned on his elbows against the railing, letting out a low laugh and turning to face Acererak again, clasping his hand with a cast mage hand before taking both and grabbing him by the arms. "I beg of you, do something in the next eternity or so to disappoint me. It would be a  _ lovely _ change of pace."

Acererak laughed as well, shrugging him off. "I'll do my best. If I may ask…" he trailed off, pointing at the mage hand, and the empty skeletal socket where Vecna's left eye had been the last time they had seen each other.

"Ah, that. To make a long story short… I had to break things off with Kas. Not because I wanted to, or because it would have been more practical. He actually instigated it."

"Was it-"

"It had nothing to do with you."

"That is  _ not _ what I was about to ask, but I suppose it's still good to know. Was it to do with your whole  _ apotheosis _ situation?"

His jaw set and clenched, the flickering light flared, and Vecna crossed his arms. "More to do with the sword I made him. But I succeeded despite that, more or less, as you can see-" And here he gestured to himself with a flourish. "-with only a few minor setbacks."

"Such as being sent to Ravenloft for your interplanar crimes," Acererak said, mockingly lilting the last two words. "So it  _ was _ you that laid siege to Sigil." 

"It was. And I suppose I did meet my match - but  _ strictly _ my match," Vecna said with a grim smile. "A word of advice if you ever decide you want to try overthrowing me? Bring friends."

"I'm quite content where I am, thank you. Near-divine consciousness without the responsibility of it on top of the ones I have already is just fine."

"Pass it down to the atropal, then, once it gains sentience." Vecna shrugged. "If it really does become a god on the material plane, and some upstart band of adventurers decides to come and stop it, it'll have a grandfather it can call on." He raised a finger to Acererak's mouth when it fell open. "It was wonderful catching up, but you're right about all the responsibilities gods have, and I've got things to work on delegating. Best of luck with the little godling!"

In a cloaking of shadow, he disappeared.

  
"Now  _ wait just one second, Vecna-!" _


End file.
